Hold Me
by NotFlyingWithOtters
Summary: All Brennan wanted was someone to hold her, fluffy oneshot fic set after the season 6 finale. No spoilers from season 7.


**Hello, it's been a while :3 I had this one shot idea very very shortly after watching the finale and pre-finale (WHICH I CRIED MY EYES OUT AT. VINCENT.) And then I just decided I needed to beat writer's block :3**

Brennan sighed and lay back on her bed, desperately trying to shake the feeling of nausea that pulsed deep in her stomach so that she could sleep. She rolled over once, hoping a shift in position would ease the unpleasantness away; but it served only to heighten the gnawing sensation in her stomach. Idly, her fingers travelled down over her stomach and rested there, a feeble attempt to physically quell the sickness. After ten more minutes or so of trying to find a nice position to lie in that didn't make her feel like her stomach contents were going to explode and failing she sat up. Her hands reached for her cell and she felt a stab of uneasiness at who she was going to call, but rapidly pushed it away, compartmentalising. She was going to call Booth, her partner, best friend and father of her child.

She took a few moments to reflect as she scrolled through her contacts list, her mind wandering far away from where she was at present. It was a little over a month since she had told him, and he'd been completely amazing, looking after her and staying with her during her first days of morning sickness, being her rock and staying in the evenings, but never staying the night. And now she wanted him, more than anything she wanted him the way she had when they had made the baby growing inside her. She needed him to be there for her. Another wave of nausea hit and interrupted her thinking, causing her to almost double over in a bid to stop herself vomiting. She hit the call button and the picture of Booth cuddling Parker flashed up on her screen. There was a silence as the network connected and then the dial tone began to burr in her ear, replaced a few moments later with the ringing on the other end.

'Wha...? Bones? Are you okay?' The tiredness from his first word was replaced by concern and she swallowed, her throat clogging.

'I... I'm fine, Booth.'

'Only fine? Bones, be honest with me.'

'I... I need you...' She trailed off miserably and she heard his breathing brushing softly against the speakers as he made his mind up.

'Okay Bren, I'm going to leave now. I'll be there soon.' She sighed in relief, feeling weak right down to the pit of her stomach.

'Thank you.' She whispered, yet somehow it was loud enough for him to hear.

'That's what I'm here for.' He mimicked the words from before, when Vincent Nigel Murray had died, and she'd needed his comforting embrace. There was a silence that descended over the apartment and she stood, the sudden movement from sitting to standing making her stomach lurch sickeningly. She closed her eyes, willing the room to stop spinning when she opened them. It was only bucking vaguely and slightly at the edges when she opened her clear grey eyes and scanned the room around her. She made her way cautiously to the kitchen, hands trailing along the work tops and the wall so that she kept herself upright. She reached the fridge and pulled out a bottle of cool water, resting it against her forehead first and cooled the sweat tingling on her brow.

Then she took a deep sip, the cool icy water travelling down her gullet and into her stomach, washing her inside with a fierce cold. She paused, eyes staring straight ahead and her fingers gently tracing the thread of the bottle cap. Sounds seemed to mute and all she focussed on was the beating of her heart, the steady pounding in her chest that filled her ears with every breath she took. She was startled by a tentative knock on the door and placed the bottle down, making her way cautiously to the front door and opening it widely. Booth stood in the doorway, hands resting loosely by his sides and a tight plain black t-shirt hugging his sculpted figure. He stepped inside and hugged her, just held her as tight as he could, enveloping her in his fiery warmth.

'Thank you.' She whispered, her voice rasping from lack of use. He held her still, resting his chin on her shoulder.

'Any time baby, I got you.' She felt herself falling into him, hands gingerly reaching for his. He lifted her up in his arms and carried her, bridal style, to her bedroom. She rested her head against his chest, the steady beating of his heart soothing her and the position she was in had almost deadened the nausea. He carefully set her down on the bed, as if she was a china doll that would shatter if he was too rough.

'Can we just…' She trailed off, her hands reaching across the bed to his and he wrapped her in his arms tightly, not letting go of her as he lay back on the bed. She rested her head on his chest, listening to his heart beating and letting it thud under the skin of his ribs, the sound gently pulsing in time with her own. She pressed her ear directly over his heart and he kissed her forehead, moving her slightly and making her grasp his shirt in two tightly clenched fists.

'Hey, hey. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.' She held very tightly to his shirt, hands seemingly melting into his flesh and her nails digging into his skin.

'Please Booth, I need to hear your heart beating. I… Booth, ever since Vincent died I've been so scared. I need to hear your heartbeat. I need to feel safe.' He pulled her completely on top of him and let her hear the sound of his heart pumping in regular rhythm under his ribs. His hand reached out to hers and took it, twining the fingers together and gingerly kissing the top of her head. He lay still, letting her hear the steady beating until her breathing changed and she fell into a deep sleep, her whole body relaxing and growing warmer. He kept his arms around her until he started to feel the familiar creep of tiredness flow over his mind, and at that point, he moved, gently easing her off of him and slipping out of bed. He pulled the covers over her and tucked her in, hands smoothing the soft cotton and fingers running over the weave.

'I love you Bones, sleep well.' She moved over and grabbed at him in her sleep, missing the warm that had suddenly vanished from her bed. Her eyelids fluttered open, her hair falling over her face and a puzzled expression crossing it.

'Booth…' He sat on the edge of the bed and took her hands in his own, squeezing tightly to them.

'Stay… please.' He lay back on the bed, and she rolled into his welcoming arms. He watched her chest rising and falling, listening to her soft and gentle breathing. He could feel her warmth emanating from her and his heat leeching into her, he could feel every slight muscle flex and change in position. He gingerly held on to her and breathed in her scent, deep lungfuls of everything that characterised her. He fell slowly into a light sleep, every movement she made making his muscles tense and him to slightly tighten and then relax his grip around her. The morning light gradually slipped in the windows, the pale dawn casting slanting shadows over the sleeping couple. Booth was aware of this light and was awake long before the birds started singing or cars far below began their trundle to work and all manner of other places.

He could feel her body tensing as she struggled towards waking, her whole being acting like a coiled spring with all the energy ready to explode in one quick movement. When the sun finally appeared and bathed them both in bars of splintering sunlight, he felt her roll over and into his chest. Her heart sped up as she realised he had stayed, holding her all night and not leaving her side. This split-second realisation was followed by another, and that was that her stomach was rebelling. Booth sensed this change in her and released her, following her to the bathroom and gathering her hair in his hands, gently teasing out the tangles as she retched and coughed, the racking nausea of morning sickness taking over.

'Shhh... I'm here baby, I'm here.' He whispered as she cried, bringing up nothing but stomach acid having not eaten the night before and the harsh acid burning her throat. She coughed and the horrible taste in her mouth making her feel as though she was hungover, from a night with Booth in the far past. He dropped her hair and ran her a glass of water, from the sink to his right and the glass that was placed on the sink. 'Drink Bones, drink, you'll feel better.' She sipped the water, salty tears on her cheeks as the acid still in her throat burned, gradually getting weakened by the water she was drinking.

'Thank you.' Her teeth were chattering and Booth realised that the sweat that had appeared whilst she was throwing up had cooled on her skin.

'Come here.' He wrapped her in his arms and rocked her gently on the tiled floor of her bathroom.

Have a shower, brush your teeth, brush your hair, get changed into something comfortable and today, you're staying in with me.'

'Okay.' She breathed, gathering the strength to climb to her feet and turn the shower on. He kissed her cheek gently.

'I'll still be here.'

Brennan let the water pound over her and began to feel slightly more human, the unmistakeable smell of vomit disappearing under the hot and steady water flow. She soaped her hair and washed herself all over, the slight curve of her stomach barely noticeable. After a few minutes standing under the hot spray, she shut the warmth off and stepped out, into the steamy air. She pulled on a long t-shirt usually wore to bed and some blue jeans, running a hand over her face. After dressing she leaned over the bathroom sink and brushed her teeth, the month freshness getting rid of the last of the acidic taste. Thirty minutes after waking she was in the kitchen, padding across the floor and tapping Booth on the shoulder. He spun round and, in one fluid motion, held her.

'I just want someone to hold me.' She whispered sadly, his grip tightening fractionally around her.

'I'll hold you. I got you. I'm here. I love you.'

**Writer's block beat, let me know what you think :3**


End file.
